Revenge of the Gingers
by triojediknights
Summary: My swan song! Favorite author: WizMonCruWil. Favorite fic: More than Enough by twochairsshortofaset. In this epic, gingers abound in District 12. Our three heroes flirt and fight and fall in love. I will try to update as often as I can, so please be patient with me! Still determining how long this one will be. Please: enjoy.
1. Chapter 1: The Gingers of District 12

**Chapter 1: The Gingers of District 12**

The sun's rays are the best alarm clock there is.

The only reason I even know an alarm clock's basic function is through school; it's an invention that only those in the Capitol can afford. But it can't be any good because nothing beats waking up to the rays of the sun shining through the flimsy curtain of my bedroom window.

I share the room, and even the bed, with my little sister, Primrose. She's twelve, but still feels like a tiny child to me. I don't mind splitting the covers. We appreciate body heat more than other people, because Seam folks cannot even afford the heating systems that the Merchants own.

That's where I live, the Seam, as I finish getting dressed in my boots, thin pants and my father's hunting jacket. It's the poorest section of the poorest district in Panem - District 12. Where you can starve to death in safety.

But just because you _can_ starve does not mean people just submit to that reality. At least I don't, as I swing my bow and quiver of arrows over my shoulder on my way to the district fence bordering the woods. I've been rising early to hunt like this ever since I was not much younger than Prim, when our father passed away in a mining accident. These last five years, I have brought in good hauls, even if hunting beyond Twelve's borders should bring instant death to offenders. Thankfully, our Head Peacekeeper, Cray, is a total joke of a leader, completely ignoring rules such as poaching. After all, it is he who pays the most handsomely for my kills; I've never gotten below five gold coins from him. And he also ignores rules such as no prostitution, fragrantly running a sex ring of poor, desperate girls out of his bunk in the Peacekeeper Barracks. Even punishments for crimes are lenient to non-existent - I cannot recall when there last was a whipping.

All of this deniability and even cluelessness on the part of our district's leaders has allowed me to provide for my family in relative safety, without fear of retribution.

I am crossing the Meadow now, nearing the treeline where the woods begin. Stepping just inside the first underbrush, I spy the dark-haired, olive-toned boy standing over an impeccably made snare.

Gale Hawthorne and I share more than looks, though there's not much weight given to that, as all Seam folks look like they could be related. He and I have been sharing game to feed our families - six people between us, not counting ourselves. Both of our fathers also died in the same mining accident, only adding to our kinship. As I approach, Gale lightly punches my arm in greeting.

"Hey, Catnip. I heard some birds flitting about in the bush that-a-aways," and he sets off to show me where as I follow.

The Catnip nickname is an old joke between us, harkening back to the day when we first met. When I had encountered Gale in the woods, he had asked me my name, and I had been so intimidated by his hulking physique that my reply only came out in a whisper. He thought I said 'Catnip,' and even after I corrected the record, the name had stuck. Perhaps it's just as well. There are few moments where a joke can be enjoyed; few times where laughter is a legitimate reaction. It's hard to find much happiness in an existence such as ours. Living in poverty under a political system which ensures that, even if our local government can be subverted, the national government in the Capitol certainly cannot. And the Capitol makes sure to keep those beneath them in their rightful place. If that place happens to be squalor, all the better.

Gale and I come upon a clearing of thick hedgegroves, whereupon Gale picks up a rock and flings it into the brush. The birds - crows, by the looks of their wings - scatter amidst incessant cawing. Notching an arrow to the string, I fire without a second thought, and a bird goes down. I fire another, with the same result. I laugh at my success, in spite of myself. Smiling is a rare thing for me, not only for the few moments of happiness generally allowed, but because I am a very guarded person. Especially when it comes to my emotions. No one can get to you if you seal off those feelings which make you vulnerable, and I have adopted this lesson with almost everyone I meet to great effect. There are a few exceptions, of course, Prim being one. Gale being another.

Circling back around to Gale's snare, we discover it has nabbed a fine rabbit. Skinning it of its pelt, and bagging it with the number of birds and few squirrels we shot down today, we amble back towards the fence, figuring we have more than enough to make a morning run in the Hob. Maybe even a bit left over for a few other stops on our rounds.

The Hob is the Seam's illegal black market. The contraband that changes hands there on a daily basis should normally be enough to wipe out half the district on death penalties. But what Peacekeeper Corps would want to funnel through all those hangings? And even if one did, you wouldn't find a district more unenthused by the prospect than Twelve. Like I said, to be a Peacekeeper here is to have the easiest assignment in the whole nation. The white-armored soldiers spend more time guarding the place and even partaking in barters than tearing the stalls apart like they should.

Gale and I approach Greasy Sae's stall first. She's an old woman who is missing most of her teeth, and is quite the hardened battle axe. But she's nice enough to us, and has a granddaughter who is simply adorable. Sae runs the fresh meat between her gnarled fingernails.

"It will make for a hearty soup."

"Good pelt, too," I add to her observation, perfecting my skills at haggling. I have learned from experience how far just a few extra coins from a hard bargain can go. But Greasy Sae shakes her head.

"I don't have use for the skin right now, girl child. But you might want to try to the tanner for that."

I nod. "Six is fine, then. For the meat." I know that is probably all Greasy Sae can afford right now.

Gale and I move on to the tanner. As Gale is bargaining with him over the price of the skin, I look up to see a white-armored Peacekeeper swaggering over to me. If Peacekeepers here had any incentive to do their job properly, I should be scared at getting caught with such contraband. Yet, I relax - all the more so when I see how the flaming red hair clashes horribly with the white armor.

The Peacekeeper stops in front of me with a million-watt smile. "Hello, Katniss."

I can't help but give a shy upturn of my facial muscles back. "Hello, Darius."

Darius is one of the few Peacekeepers - nay, the only Peacekeeper - whom I actually enjoy being around. Even more than this, he is one of those elite people, other than Gale and Prim, whom I feel I can let my walls down with. Darius is young, only 20 by my estimation, with a chiseled face and broad chest. The ginger hair that flows down to his shoulders completes the look. I've always admired his hair, not only because it's the one of the only heads of its kind here in 12 (almost all Peacekeepers are foreigners imported from the Capitol or richer districts), but also because it seems hard to believe that the Corps here would allow him to grow it out so long.

Darius is also known to be quite extroverted and a jokester, as he makes a show of poking his head in my burlap sack. "What do you have for the Hob today?"

I shrug. "Couple of birds."

"I'll take one or two for the boys back at the Barracks."

I take the bait of the potential trade. Gale will be pleased. "Got the cash?"

"Sadly, no. But I have something even better," and Darius's eyes twinkle as he suddenly takes me by my waist and pulls me close. "How about a big, wet kiss from yours truly?"

Even though a bird for a kiss would be a perfectly reasonable barter - maybe not necessarily an equal barter, but still a legitimate one - I burst out laughing and push him away. "No, thanks."

That's the other thing. Darius is known as being quite the flirt in this district. He's been begging me for a kiss since I became a teenager; it's an old joke between us. Everyone in Twelve knows how averse I am to courting, dating, marriage or anything else resembling romance. All the more reason for Darius to "pursue" me in the amusing way that he does.

Gale finishes his trade and turns back to me. He looks between the jovial smiles Darius and I share and rolls his eyes. "Shove off, Darius! Ms. Everdeen has more trades to make."

Darius furthers the sport, bowing with a flourish in deference to my hunting partner. "My apologies to the chaperone."

Gale and I head on our way. "Take care, _Ms. Everdeen_!" Darius calls after us.

* * *

"Did Darius ask to suck your face off again?" Gale inquires, as we move on into the Merchant section of the district, otherwise known as 'Town.'

I grimace in revulsion over his choice of slang. "Well, when you put it that way..."

Gale just shakes his head. "He wants you that badly, he should just grab you and bash his tongue down your throat..."

"Gale!" I gawk, awkwardly laughing. "Darius does _not_ want me. And even if he did try and kiss me, I'd punch his lights out before he got the chance!"

"Yeah, and then get written up. He's a Peacekeeper," Gale warns me, his mirth slumping back into seriousness. "If Darius ever does work up the balls to kiss you, just play along. No use getting in trouble for assaulting a Peacekeeper over a peck. There are much more worthwhile things to get thrown in the stocks for."

Gale's advice is surprising and deeply uncharacteristic of him, because if there ever was an opportunity for us to rebel here in Twelve, he would be the first to sign up. But perhaps he's just putting in his two cents to protect me, and not out of any true subordination towards the power that any Peacekeeper - even here - can wield.

We stop first at the Peacekeeper Barracks, by the Justice Building. I still have some crows left, and if I couldn't get a serious trade out of them with Darius, maybe I can with his comrades.

Unfortunately, Gale volunteers to knock on the door... and is met with the very last Peacekeeper we would want to trade with.

Purnia has the same flaming red hair as Darius. But unlike Darius, she is anything but a jokester. She is probably the only Peacekeeper in this entire district to take her job with any modicum of seriousness. When inspections of the Corps have passed through, she has often been mistaken as the Head Peacekeeper, which I am sure Cray sees as quite the insult. As such, Purnia is the only official in all of District 12 who doesn't just let Gale's and my poaching slide without questions asked.

Today is no exception.

Purnia takes one look at the crows Gale has offered and announces, "You got these from beyond the fence again."

Gale tries to feign innocence. "I'm a busy man. I don't have time to think about where I shot these."

"Certainly not in the center of town," Purnia scowls, hands on her hips. It is quite a shame she is so demanding even while belonging to the supposedly sweeter sex. For a Peacekeeper, Purnia is quite pretty - not a blemish on her face. Certainly prettier than me. Ordinarily, I would admire her spunk, except that spunk is currently getting in the way of a potentially lucrative trade.

Gale and Purnia bicker back and forth for a few more minutes, before Purnia finally sighs and swipes away a few crows, with coins as payment. "I'll put these in our stores for the boys. But this is the _last_ time, Hawthorne! I mean it!" And she slams the door in our faces. I almost feel bummed that she didn't yell at me; I am just as at fault.

As we walk away, I give Gale a questioning look. "Is it the last time?"

"No," he deadpans. "That's what she always says."

* * *

Our last stop of the morning is the Mellark Bakery. It is a Merchant establishment, which actually poses a greater risk than even dealing with the Peacekeepers - most Merchants turn up their noses at anyone Seam. Even the matriarch of this family views Gale and I with disdain. Which is why I tentatively knock in the hopes that she, "the Witch", is not home. The Baker's wife is known to be a shrew of a woman, and there are rumors of abuse going on in this house.

So I am relieved when it is Peeta Mellark, the Baker's youngest son, who opens the back door. He is of average height, stocky build; he's a wrestler in school. Ashy blonde hair and deep blue eyes. A boyish grin adds the finishing touch. It was that very grin that endeared me, and more critically Gale, to him. Another of the few people in Twelve with whom I can be my more vulnerable self.

"Great! She's not home. Out on an errand. Come on in!" Peeta leads us up the narrow hallway and out into the space behind the counter. I admire his bravery for trading with us out here in the relative open, especially when his mother could return at any moment. The Witch would not hesitate to launch both Gale and me into the stocks - probably the only Peacekeeper punishment used with any regularity at all.

I produce the squirrels for Peeta and we begin our sale. Peeta pays quite generously for the animals - not so much for himself, but for his father, the Baker, whom I am told has developed quite the guilty pleasure for them. Today is no different, as Peeta drops a full ten coins into my palm.

"Buy something for Prim," he tells me. "Her birthday's coming up, right?"

I actually beam, and feeling most grateful, peck my lips against Peeta's cheek. "Thank you."

I jump back a little as I draw away, as I see a redheaded girl now blinking in surprise. If the sight of Katniss Everdeen in a Merchant shop is not surprising enough, the sight of Katniss Everdeen being freely affectionate certainly is. "Oh, hi, Delly."

Delly Cartwright is the daughter of the shoemaker. And is probably one of the most bubbly people I have ever met. She is always smiling and has never uttered so much as a harsh word about anyone. Gale has more than once referred to her as a cartoon character come to life, and I find myself agreeing with him. I can only ever take Delly in small doses.

"Hi, Katniss! Hi, Gale! Didn't expect to see you here today. What lovely squirrels. You guys are such great hunters." She pauses in her high praise to drop a pair of shoes on the counter. "Tell Rye to bring those four coins by sometime in the next day or two, Peeta."

Peeta grins as he reaches back to pluck the pair off the wooden surface. "He'll be very pleased. Thanks, Delly!"

I almost think I see Delly blush as she scampers out the door.

"Better scram before you-know-who gets back," Gale rationalizes. "Thanks, Peeta, buddy! See you later!"

"Bye now!" Peeta sees us out the back door with a wave.

As soon as we are out of earshot, Gale rounds on me. "What, no kiss for Darius but a peck for Peeta? Something you want to tell me, Catnip?"

"I have nothing to say to you," I retort, keeping my face neutral despite Gale's teasing jab.


	2. Chapter 2: New Hunting Partner

**Chapter 2: New Hunting Partner**

I find it surprising when I meet up with Gale in the Seam that next Sunday. He is usually up far earlier than I am, which means I almost always do not encounter him until the woods. The woods is where we almost always meet anyhow.

So, if I am running into Gale early as we head for the fence together, either he just got a late start this morning, or something is wrong.

I quickly find out that it's the latter.

"My mother lost her job," Gale morosely tells me.

I stare. "As Haymitch Abernathy's washerwoman? How do you lose a job as Haymitch Abernathy's washerwoman?" I don't mean for it to come out sounding like an insult of Gale's mother's competence; Hazelle Hawthorne is a sweet and wonderful lady. I am hoping my incredulity is interpreted as a slight towards her now former employer.

Haymitch Abernathy is one of only two people from District 12 to become a Victor of the Hunger Games, the annual Capitol competition in which two children from each district are sent into an outdoor arena to fight to the death until only one of the two dozen competitors remains. Haymitch Abernathy triumphed in the 50th Hunger Games, nearly a quarter century ago. Ever since, he has been known as District 12's resident drunk - the textbook case of a slob. So, I have no clue what Hazelle could possibly have done wrong as his washerwoman to warrant her firing, if Haymitch leaves little evidence that he cares to be tidy himself.

Yet Gale still has an answer. "She sent his favorite flask through the fire by accident when she was drying the laundry. Thing half-melted. He went ballistic."

I wrinkle my nose, amazed that I have another new reason to hate Haymitch Abernathy. "He has a favorite _flask_?"

"I know. _Weird_ ," Gale emphasizes.

A pause as I take this in. "Well, maybe he was in a drunken rage. He always is. Maybe he'll just take her back after cooling off."

Gale shrugs. "We can only hope. But, until then, I have to go into the mines to pick up the slack on our income."

I stop in my tracks. Here was the answer I was dreading. The mines are the most common cause of death here in District 12. I would be distraught if their fires claimed someone as young as Gale. But he's 18, and now eligible to work down there. "So until old Abernathy rehires your mom or she gets a new job, no hunting during the week?"

Gale regards me with a mixture of grimness and sadness. "Afraid not, Catnip."

* * *

So it is the following Monday that I begin my early morning trek through town alone. The streets are quiet and nearly deserted, the first grays of dawn rapidly losing their ability to conceal me as I steal towards the district fence.

Maybe that is why I am nearly on the outskirts of the Seam when I hear a voice calling my name. "Katniss! Katniss Everdeen!"

I turn about to see a redhaired Peacekeeper running after me. "Darius. What a surprise."

Darius slows to a light jog as he pulls to a stop. He is breathing hard, and it makes me wonder just how far and for how long he has been following me. "Where are you going this early?"

Any other Peacekeeper would make me lie, or at the very least freeze, regarding any inquiries into my whereabouts. But I trust Darius enough, and have enough of a trading rapport with him, to be honest. "The woods. Hunting."

Darius nods, and glances about. "Where's Gale, then?"

"I usually meet him in the woods. But he can't come this week. He's working in the mines until his mom gets a new job."

"Right. I heard about that. Old Abernathy threw a fit. I can talk with the bastard about rehiring his mom, if you want."

"Thanks, but Gale isn't the kind to just accept favors," I reply. _Especially from a Peacekeeper_ , I add silently. "He's betting Haymitch will come around on his own."

"So he might," Darius agrees. "In the meantime, you're going to brave the woods all alone?"

I wrinkle my nose in offense, reading the sexist implication behind the question even if Darius probably has no such subtext. "I've done it before."

"No doubt you have. But would you mind if I join you?"

I laugh. "You? Out in the woods?"

"I just got off the night-owl patrol. The rest of the day is mine. Besides, it would be nice to watch you work. How about it?" Darius grins.

I eye him, both suspicious and amused. Despite the fact that Darius, of all people, shouldn't have an ulterior motive, he is still a Peacekeeper by virtue of the uniform he wears. He could be trying to spy on me for Cray, or even some other hunter who competes with us for game.

 _Or perhaps he just wants to spend time with you_ , a voice in my head theorizes.

 _Bullshit_ , I shoot down. _That would mean he wants this to be a date. And this is most definitely_ _not_ _a date._

Finally, I communicate my agreement with a jerk of the head. "Stay close." And I march off for the fence, leaving Darius to follow me.

The sunlight glints through the canopy, casting little sparkles on the forest floor, as Darius and I move through the trees. The woods have been quiet so far, with only the sound of birds calling to one another. The sun is high in the sky when I finally come across a buck and fell it with one arrow. Darius whistles at the hit.

"Impressive." I can feel his eyes on me, and I only hope they're looking where they should.

Later that afternoon, we begin to advance up a sloped incline, emerging out of a cluster of trees onto a rocky plateau. On the stony ridge, we freeze when we spot a hulking brown grizzly bear, hunched over a fish carcass. My taste buds water at the meat; I've only ever been this deep in the woods a few times with Gale, so the evidence makes me eager to track where a stream is nearby.

But this mental note is interrupted when the bear spies us, and feeling justifiably threatened, begins to charge. I quickly ready an arrow in the notch, backing up to give myself some distance as I aim the shot, but I trip on a tree root and tumble into the dirt.

The bear is almost on top of me, and I fear that my death will be at the ends of slow digestion, when I suddenly hear the rapid retort of machine gunfire. With a roar, the bear falls dead, its monstrous body landing feet from me.

Darius is standing over me, the smoky tendrils of bullets rising from the barrel of his gun. He is breathing hard and his face is contorted in deep rage. But something else flashes in his eyes. Is it... protection? Indeed, in the next instant, he turns to me and holds out his hand.

"Are you OK?"

My eyes not leaving his, I accept his hand and allow him to pull me to my feet. I am in awe of Darius's bravery, considering especially that this is his first venture out beyond the district. His quick adaptation to these wild, unpredictable threats fill me with deep admiration for him, never mind the fact that he saved my life.

By the time Darius and I have finished skinning the bear and dividing its meat into portable shares, it is getting dark. We trek back to the district fence mostly in silence, broken only by incremental sharing of our life stories. I gradually come to learn more about Darius's past, how he grew up in District 2 before being recruited to the Peacekeeping Corps. He was in District 7 before being assigned to Twelve.

The few street lamps that light the Seam reflect brightly on Darius's hair as we make final approach to my house. I enter into the foyer, and Darius follows behind me. Mother greets me.

"Did you have a good hunt, dear?" and the salutation is unusually friendly, since getting my mother to show any life at all has been a struggle since my father's death.

Then Mother sees Darius and stops short. If a Peacekeeper is accompanying me into our home, I must be in trouble. It's the only logical conclusion.

But Darius only smiles. "That we did, Mrs. Everdeen. Quite a bit of excitement today. I, for one, enjoyed myself. Plus, I got to complete a night patrol of the Seam in the bargain!" He nods to me. "Thanks for letting me accompany you, Katniss. Good evening to you ladies." And squeezing my hand, he takes his leave.

Mother rounds on me, her expression curious. But even amidst her surprise, I can tell that she is very pleased. I can see the smile in her eyes. And why wouldn't she be pleased? For all she knows, I was on a long walk/date with Darius. Perhaps she thinks I am seeing him. The prospect of a guy courting me, and especially my courting him in return, would no doubt thrill her. Mother is well aware of my unenthused opinions on marriage, but that hasn't stopped her from trying to encourage me to marry. Start a family. And to do so with someone above my station - a Peacekeeper, no less! - would more than earn her approval. Wedding a Peacekeeper would give me financial security.

But none of Mother's fantasies will play out, a point I try to silently communicate to her as I head off to bed without another word. I will never marry. My parents' union has given me enough information to know that giving my life and love to another would only result in disaster. Besides, Primrose is the real beauty of the family, not me. And I would never marry a man associated with the Capitol. Not even a kindhearted and handsome fellow like Darius.


	3. Chapter 3: Peacekeepers Made Vulnerable

**Chapter 3: Peacekeepers Made Vulnerable**

 **Gale's POV**

Mid-day is the hardest time at the mine.

Ironically, it is the moment of the day where most miners get their break. A few precious minutes returning to the surface. The hard part about it is adjusting to the light of day, and to breathing air that is slightly but critically of better quality than the air we breathe deep below the earth.

That is where I find myself today, just coming out of a portable restroom facility. I still have a few more minutes before I have to return to the elevators, so I decide to eat my packed lunch. After a time, Peacekeeper Purnia joins me.

"How many times have I told you: don't eat with soot still on your fingers?" she demands.

I shrug and audaciously take another bite out of my sandwich. I actually love tormenting her like this. Besides, Peacekeeper though she might be, she can't tell me what to do on something as trivial as this.

"You're not my mother." Then: "Why do you care so much about my health, anyway? I'm just a miner to you."

Purnia seems taken aback by the question, and remains mute. Though I don't expect an answer, I oddly find myself still waiting for one, when suddenly -

KABOOM. The blast blows apart a key section of the mine, and overturns the picnic table Purnia and I are seated at. We are both thrown clear, landing with me on top of her. A compromising position, indeed.

I am just recovering from my shock and climbing off the ginger female, when another ginger Peacekeeper comes running up. Darius. And following him is Katniss.

"Are you guys all right?" Darius demands, brushing off a part of my uniform.

"Fine, I'm fine," I say, glancing back towards the emergency teams rushing for the mines.

Purnia springs into action. "Hawthorne, come help me. Darius, go report to the Justice Building. I think we have this covered. I'll radio if the situation changes."

As I head off, I look back to see Darius gesturing for Katniss to follow him...

* * *

 **Katniss's POV**

"Katniss, come with me," Darius tells me earnestly.

Eyebrow raised in interest, I follow after the handsome Peacekeeper, away from the mines and back into the Seam. Then into Town and finally to the Peacekeepers' Barracks. From there, Darius radios in to report the mine explosion. Then, he ushers me into a simple abode. With a start, I take in Darius's room for the first time.

A bed is pushed against one far wall. Against the opposite wall is a countertop and shelves, a rusty oven. A table and two wooden chairs sit in the middle. Darius bustles about, opening the cabinets a little too fast, so that a clay bowl falls and shatters against the floor. From the way I see Darius's hands shake, he seems to be nervous about something.

"Darius...?" I ask tentatively, starting to feel a little uneasy myself, though why I don't know.

"Please, call me 'Dar,'" Darius insists, his voice a little raspy.

I eye him. "OK..." as he gestures me to sit and then takes a seat across from me.

"Katniss," he begins. "I have seen these last few weeks how hard you have to work to feed your family. How poor you and your mother and sister still are. It concerns me greatly." He suddenly takes my hand in his. "You must also know how I have feelings for you. Strong feelings. You are an attractive young woman, and not just because you are beautiful."

My mouth falls open in disbelief. I have never had any man - never mind a Peacekeeper! - tell me I was pretty or in any other way desirable. And I have never thought that of myself either. I'm all skin and bones, one might even say gaunt. Small breasts. And I personally feel my womanhood leaves much to be desired. The intensity of Darius's gaze makes me glance away.

"I'm a bit... uh... flattered," I admit. And in a tiny way, I am. A flattery that comes from being strange and new. I have never had a boy or a man like me before.

Darius smiles, encouraged. "I want to take care of you. However I can. Though you have made it clear you are more than capable of taking care of yourself, it isn't enough, I feel. I can provide for you. And your family."

I raise my eyes back to his. "How? Peacekeepers aren't allowed to marry."

"Not privates like me, no. But those who climb the ranks..." He blushes. "I am hoping if I work hard enough for a few years, I could be promoted to Cray's position someday. Then, I would have the means and legal leeway to take a wife. Until then, I was hoping... if you would be my companion."

Now I nearly fall out of my chair. "You're proposing to me. You're asking me to marry you." It is a statement, not a question. The principles that I have laid out for myself should be telling me to shoot this down immediately, but I have to admire his gall.

"Not yet. We wouldn't get married just yet. I would wait to be promoted - and from what I have heard from command, there's a good chance I will be eventually. Until then... you would live here. With me. Not have to take out tesserae. My commission stipend would provide for you."

Flushing, I pull my hand away and settle it into my lap, where my eyes now rest. "What about... Mother? Prim?"

"Well, they would come live with us," Darius replies, as if that is obvious. "My stipend would more than cover for them too." I feel him lean closer. "I'm not asking for anything from you right now. Not sex or even physical affection. If that came later after we were married, it would come later. Just... a companion." I feel him take my hand again. "Will you consider it?"

I stare up into his face. Darius is offering to give me financial security - to lift me and my family out of poverty - for the foreseeable future. And for nothing in return from me... at least, not yet.

The prudent side of me should hate the deal, if not outright reject it, if for no other reason than the trade is completely one-sided. I know a fair trade when I see one, and this one is anything but fair. I hate owing someone, especially when there is no reasonable means to pay someone back. But what could I pay Darius with? Game? The Barracks are stocked with plenty of that already. No... sex? Despite his insistence that I need not sleep with him or pleasure him, going to his bed every night could be sufficient payment. But there is the issue of my vow to never marry or even engage carnally with anyone. I am doubtful I could get over those fears.

Nevertheless, I find myself croaking out, "I will consider it."

Darius beams. "I'd very much like to kiss you. If you'll allow it."

I gulp. "Didn't you just say no physical affection?" But before he can answer, I find myself shrugging and glancing up to look him in the face. "All right. I'll allow it."

Darius eye's soften. Wordlessly, he scoots forward and takes my face in his hands, his fingers warming my cheeks. He bends towards me. The prey within me is screaming for me to flee, and yet I am powerless to stop this. And a part of me, faint but just detectable, does not want it to stop. Awkwardly, I lean in towards Darius, my fingers finding purchase and fisting in his hair. My eyes flutter shut as I feel his breath on my face. I wonder how it would feel to kiss him... what his lips taste like...

Before I can feel Darius's mouth seal over mine, there is a pounding at the door. A pause as neither of us moves, and for one mad moment, I predict that Darius will just grab me and suck my face to get his kiss in before answering. But no, he is sighing in exasperation as he rises from his chair, his heat leaving me as he goes to answer the door. My eyes fluttering open, standing stock still in shock that a man nearly kissed me, I vaguely register Gale's voice on the other side of the door.

"Come on, Catnip. Your mother's worried. We're going home." I rise to my feet at Gale's order, passing by a disappointed looking Darius. A sympathetic part of me considers boldly kissing him goodbye, but I elect to just squeezing his hand instead. If I did just kiss Darius out of the blue, I fear how Gale might react.

And it turns out my fears are well founded, as we set off in the early evening for home.

"What the hell were you doing with him?" Gale demands.

"He invited me in for a bite to eat," I snap back, eyebrow raised at his displeasure.

"Are you sure your tongue and throat weren't on the menu?" Gale sneers. "I know he wants to kiss you senseless."

"Maybe he does, and what's wrong with that?" I prissily retort. "I'm sure Darius is a fine man to kiss."

Gale gawks at me. "'What's wrong with that?' Catnip, you've never wanted to kiss a man in your life, much less marry one! I know you! Does he? Does he even care about you at all?"

"Yes," I round on him. "He asked me to come live with him. Mother and Prim, too."

"And you're sure that's all? Or does he want a Toasting and you in his bed in the bargain?"

I throw up my hands. "I don't know what Darius wants!" even though that is kind of a lie. "And I can kiss whomever I damn well please! Who I see or live with or even kiss shouldn't be any of your business!"

"It's completely my business!" Gale gallingly shouts me down. "He's a Peacekeeper!"

"And unlike you, he's a real man!" And I turn on my heel and march for home, leaving Gale stunned in my wake.


	4. Chapter 4: Mistletoe and Whippings

**Chapter 4: Mistletoe and Whippings**

Perhaps it is just as well that I can only see Gale on Sundays now. During those first few weeks after our argument over Darius, I have no desire to talk to him. Our hunts on Sundays are even temporarily suspended. I prefer instead to hunt alone.

It's a bad season to be hunting alone. Winter is in full swing, which means there is scarce game as it is. I have to work twice as hard to bring down the few meat I can find without the help of a partner.

One Sunday, I only have a few rabbits in my game bag when I go to trade in the Hob. Predictably, I encounter Darius there. I find myself flushing when I see him, even with the cold already bringing a red to my cheeks that is normally uncommon for someone Seam. I offer Darius one of my rabbits.

He grins. "You know, I never got to give you that kiss from before. How about now as payment? Besides, there's mistletoe." And he points directly above us, where there is indeed a sprig hanging from a beam.

I let out a nervous laugh, as I glance about the black market. It's busy, and my guarded nature dictates that I do not want everyone startled by the show of Katniss Everdeen openly kissing a Peacekeeper in public. Maybe just a quick peck will do...

"Sure," I shrug.

I intend to peck Darius's lips, but he makes the first move, wrapping his arms about my waist and pulling me close. We drift towards each other slowly, and my mind goes blank. My resolve that this be an innocent peck goes flying out of my head. Besides... is a rabbit worth so little...?

I get the sense that Darius is about to kiss me until I forget my own name (and I shiver to realize that I was about to bestow on him the same courtesy), when a head of blonde hair comes shrieking into the Hob. Darius and I fly apart, caught just short once again.

"Peacekeeper! Peacekeeper!" And Peeta Mellark makes right for Darius, the first white-armored guard he sees.

"What is it, boy?"

"They've got Gale! Whipping post!"

Darius looks flummoxed; he knows as well as anybody in Twelve that the whipping post hasn't been used in years. Even more than that, he actually looks scared. "What the devil...?"

Any thoughts of our kiss-that-wasn't forgotten, Darius tears out of the Hob, Peeta and I right at his heels. We end up leading a crowd of gawking onlookers from the Hob to the square.

Where indeed, my best friend is chained to the whipping post, and an unfamiliar Commander is giving him lash after agonizing lash. Gale's back looks as shredded as an animal's hide. Off the one side, I can see another head of red hair pleading with the flogger. Purnia.

"That is more than enough for the proper punishment, Commander Thread..." Purnia is begging. I can tell she is lying through her teeth. Who is she to know the proper number of lashes when the lash has lain dormant as a mechanism of justice for years?

Perhaps feeling that a second opinion might calm the raging Commander, Darius steps in and confirms Purnia's bullshit story.

"He was poaching deer!" Thread, the Commander, splutters. Evidently, he isn't used to subordinates making suggestions on how he should do his job.

"And he has been dealt with admirably," Darius eases. "Commander, it would not do for you to make a scene with your first official act here in Twelve."

Thread finally acquiesces. Darius and Peeta cut Gale free. The strength between the two of them alone is impressive, as only they are needed to carry him away. Back towards my mother. Purnia dithers after them, looking oddly more concerned than I have ever seen them. I jog to keep pace with the men.

As Mother and Prim look after Gale, Peeta and I badger Darius with questions.

"Who is he?" I demand.

"New commander. Looks like Cray's out," Darius muses.

"Cray's been _fired_?" Peeta stares. That is a startling development indeed. True, none of us really cared for him, but at least Cray left us alone. Compared to other regimes in other districts, we probably had it pretty cushy under Cray, in fact.

"I guess his laziness finally caught up with him," Purnia hypothesizes.

"What do we do now?" Peeta demands of Darius.

"Ride him out for the time being. Any regime change in districts has some growing pains and its share of violence before the dust settles. I hope Thread can be persuaded to relax some of his harshest tendencies. There's nothing to be threatened by from a backwater like Twelve. Things may well revert back to what they were under Cray. You'll see."

And he and Purnia take their leave, the latter lingering on Gale to make sure he is taken care of.

I almost feel disappointed when Darius doesn't kiss me goodbye. It's almost like I expected him to. I find myself running after the Peacekeepers. Purnia has gone on ahead, for I find Darius alone in the street.

"Darius!"

He turns back. "Yes?"

I want to kiss him. I want to throw my arms around him and eat his face off in a kiss so indecent, I would get thrown into the stocks. That is a punishment sometimes, for indecent affection/exposure. Sex between consenting adults is only accepted in the bedroom or the Slag Heap, obscured by mountains and mountains of trash. But two people can kiss in public, provided that they are conservative about it.

And now I want to kiss Darius badly. To thank him for saving Gale. I want Darius to kiss me back. Or finally work up the nerve to kiss me at all. I don't even care so much that it would be in full view of the neighbors...

But my courage fails me. I flush scarlet and glance away. "Thank you. For saving Gale."

Darius beams. "You're welcome."

* * *

 _It is late evening. I am sitting up, alone with an unconscious Gale on our kitchen table. Primrose and Mother have gone to bed. Peeta left ages ago. Suddenly, there is a knock at the door. I answer it to find Darius._

 ** _"Did you forget something?"_**

 ** _"Yes,"_** _he breathes deeply._ _ **"This."**_ _And pulling me tight against his body, he kisses me full on the mouth._

 _I freeze for a moment, eyes bulging. Until I remember that I've been waiting for him to plant a kiss on me. Snaking one arm around his neck and my other hand against his chest, I close my eyes and kiss him in return._

 _The kiss quickly becomes heated. Darius staggers back into the archway of the door. His calloused hands squeeze my ass while he hoists me up the wall. We begin to tear at each other's clothes, hungry for that violently intimate act they call sex..._

* * *

I awaken suddenly, dismayed to find my panties and bedclothes soaked with fluid. And even more dismayed to discover that my long-awaited kiss with Darius was just a dream.

The thought makes me scowl. What is wrong with me? Since when am I demanding or expecting or even dreaming that a man kiss me? I only hope the answer isn't that I, a poor Seam woman, am falling for a Peacekeeper...


	5. Chapter 5: Kissed Senseless

**Chapter 5: Kissed Senseless**

The night before the Reaping is always deathly quiet. Families awaiting whether one of their own children will be sent to certain death in the wilderness come morning. So, it seems cruel to be thinking about anything else, or even to be out at this time of night.

But I have to get this medicine off to Peeta. An errand for my mother. The Baker has reportedly taken ill, and Mother fretted that if not made better, the Peacekeepers might come forcing him out of his sickbed and to the Reaping - a strain that the middle-aged man can ill afford.

My name will be in the bowl scores of times. I have already taken out tesserae in the hopes that it will dissuade Prim from doing so, especially now that she is of age for the Reaping - her very first. I would rather that the odds were not in my favor. Thinking of the amounts of grain I have already taken out makes me back to that extended hand that could change my future.

In the ensuing six months or so, Darius and I have continued to hunt together during the week, which actually gives me cover from Thread's wrath. That reason alone places me in the young and handsome Peacekeeper's debt - enough of a reason that to kiss him senseless would seem like more than fair repayment. And yet, in these six months, I have given only passing thought here and there, and have yet to give an answer, to Darius's offer. No, "proposal." I consider it a proposal for my hand in marriage, even if he just says he wants me to live with him. If I were to accept, say Yes, he might not expect anything now... but eventually, I would be behooved to Toast the bread with him. Become a wife and care for him. Perhaps even become a mother... The latter thought makes my gut roil as I am reminded anew of why I have never wanted children in the first place. The Games. I have no way of knowing whether any product of a Seam and Peacekeeper union would stand any greater or lesser chance of being Reaped for the Games. Perhaps being fathered by a Capitol official would offer some protection. Then again, if Darius insisted we marry before he was promoted to higher office... if we wed before he was legally allowed to take a bride... Scandal could result and any children of ours might be a guarantee for the Reaping Bowl as punishment.

My thoughts are muddled as I at last approach the cozy lights and aromas of the bakery. The place is all but closed up; through the panes, I can see Peeta sweeping behind the counter. I quietly sneak around to the back loading dock, where Gale and I have always done our trades. Even if it's night and the Witch is likely asleep, rousing her by coming through the front is not a risk I am willing to take. I knock cautiously.

Peeta answers with a furrowed brow that quickly melts away into happy relief. "Oh, Katniss, good! I wasn't expecting you until morning."

"That's exactly what Mother didn't want," I explain. "If your father can't get out of bed in the morning, the Peacekeepers will force him to attend the Reaping."

Peeta nods grimly, the muscles in his face drawn. "I know. I went to the Justice Building today and tried to appeal for an Excusion, but Thread wouldn't have it."

I huff. "Figures." The last time someone got an Excusion for Mandatory Attendance was when Peeta and I were small children, only just school age. The tailor's wife was literally on her deathbed, and Mother was working overtime to try and save her. Naturally, the Excusion was extended to her, as well, being the only Healer in the district.

Peeta leads me through the back passageway and up to behind the counter. "You can leave the medicine right there, and I'll give it to Dad in the morning with his breakfast." I deposit the package as Peeta wipes down the display cases, devoid of their cupcakes and pastries and other delights that Prim and I have sometimes marveled at. "Nervous for tomorrow?"

I shrug. "More for Prim than me. It's her first year."

"She won't be picked," Peeta assures me. "It's been years since a 12-year-old was thrown in."

I fiddle with the elastic of my pants. "What about you? It's your brother's last year, right?"

"Yeah." Rye Mellark, the middle son, is known to be quite the jokester. He's always come off as unfiltered and brash to me; he could do with taking a leaf out of Peeta's mild-mannered book. He chuckles. "Strange. We're more worried about our family's chances than our own."

"Isn't that natural?" I frown. "I've been worrying about my family since I was 11, and for more reasons than the Reaping."

"True, but as far as the Reaping is concerned, you shouldn't worry." He suddenly takes my hand. "If you're picked, Prim won't starve. Neither will your mother. I'd trade plenty with them and hope that Prim at least marries someone worthy of her."

I smile at his last promise, for it seems so big-brotherly of him. "Thank you," I murmur, still deeply moved by his caring. "I should not have expected anything less."

"Katniss..." Peeta ventures. "Do you remember the day we first met?"

"Of course," I laugh, recalling the first day of school in my little red dress, when I sang in music assembly. Peeta had come right up to me and told me that I had the prettiest voice he had ever heard, and that the birds outside the window stopped their chattering to listen to me.

Peeta is also grinning at the memory. "And how you made the birds go quiet. It was like art. Like the paintings I draw, only painted with sound. I knew then... that we'd be magnificent together."

I giggle at my dear friend. "We _are_ magnificent together."

Peeta's face could light up the sun. "My sweet Katniss... ever since that day... hell, for years, actually... I've wanted... to..."

His face has grown deeply intense as he gazes at me. But even then, I am not prepared for it. Peeta suddenly takes me by my waist, pulls me close and fuses his lips to mine.

My eyes pop open, bulge, and I let out a muffled squeak of confusion.

I had always expected, especially these last several months, for my first kiss (if it ever happened) to come from Darius. Not from this blonde boy whose lips now dance across my own for a moment before drawing away.

I blink once, then again, staring at him in a daze. "What was that?" I splutter stupidly.

Peeta shrugs. "A kiss."

I eye him warily. "I know it was a kiss..."

"My first! I've wanted to do that for a long time..."

I am suddenly in Peeta's arms again. He kisses me once more, his lips more insistent. I try to cry out, but my mouth opening to his, twitching against his allows him to slip his tongue oh so gently into my throat. Peeta's not a bad kisser - he's quite good, actually. At least as good as can be expected from someone who has no other lips, no other kiss, to compare his to. Even so, my hands now fist into his apron, as I try desperately to push him away...

The bell jingling at the front door alerts us to the fact that we are no longer alone. "Mmmmm!" I squeal into Peeta's mouth, but when my panic does not sway him, I finally shove him away, prying our lips apart.

But it is too late. Delly Cartwright is standing in the bakery doorway, with her mouth likely as open as mine is. I can see why she would feel she was interrupting something consensual between two people, how she could misconstrue Peeta's kiss as one I would return. Even in the way my fingers clutched at Peeta's apron, to the untrained eye, it would have looked like I was pulling him closer, kissing him back...

Peeta looks positively flustered, all the more so at realizing that I have resisted both of his efforts at kissing me senseless. Add Delly's witnessing the spectacle, and he is mortified. "Delly..."

I am now horrified to see that Delly is close to tears. "I'm sorry, Peeta! Katniss!" she squeaks. "I didn't mean to... if you're busy..." And she flees from the bakery, crying, before I have a chance to explain.

I round on Peeta to tell him off, to display my deep anger and displeasure at being kissed without my consent. But I cannot find the words. A breach of trust in our friendship has been broken, but that does not mean I want the friendship to end over words that either of us would regret. "I'll see you tomorrow at the Reaping," I say coldly, and turn tail and run out the back door of the loading dock. All the better so as not to encounter Delly.

Two men vying for my affections. Two men whom I know want to kiss my lips with their own. What did I do to deserve such attentions?

* * *

I rise early and change into my blue Reaping dress. Then I rouse Prim. Mother does up my hair in our cracked mirror. It is one of the few things I allow from her in our strained relationship, one of the few moments of beautification that I do not mind. Besides, my blue dress is the only nice piece of clothing I own; I might as well complete the look in some way. Cosmetics are a luxury our family cannot afford.

By the time we reach the square in front of the Justice Building, the sun is already high in the sky. Prim and I check in with the authorities. I find myself keeping an eye out for Darius, but I do not see him. Perhaps he is not on duty, or stationed indoors.

I do, however, spy Peeta amongst the 16-year-old boys. I turn sadly away, not wanting to dwell in any way on the boy who stole my first kiss from me. My gaze then falls on Gale, with the 18-year-old boys as part of his last Reaping. He must see the sadness in my eyes, for he stares at me quizzically. I force a smile onto my face that seems to convince him I am all right.

Mayor Undersee begins the speech about the Dark Days. It is the same, year after year, so I tune it out. What is more prevalent, and interesting (in an embarrassing way) is the reading of District 12's Past Hunger Games Victors. In 73 years, we have had exactly two. Two. The first I have only seen in schoolbooks or through the statue that stands in the schoolyard. The Victor of the 2nd Hunger Games, Emmanuelle Southard. She was a girl from the Seam who won by rigging homemade bombs and land mines. For hours on end she did this while hiding in small rocky crevices of the arena, blowing up any tributes who came along. When there were only four tributes left, she made her move. At a Feast, two of her competitors were killed and then Emmanuelle knifed the boy from 4 and finished him off by blowing him up. The Capitol did not approve of such a gruesome death; it was a bit much, even for them. Since then, the minimum age for working in the mines in District 12 has been 18, leaving our tributes at a distinct disadvantage.

The Victor of the 50th Hunger Games, Haymitch Abernathy, is our most recent. He conquered in an arena with twice the number of tributes. Aside from that, he is useless. He is drunk more often than he helps our tributes. He is even drunk now, passed out in his chair.

Mayor Undersee now cedes the floor to Effie Trinket, our District escort. "Ladies first!" She chirps with her accent. She reaches into the Girls' Reaping Bowl. "Katniss Everdeen!"

I should have better prepared myself. With so much tesserae, my chances of being picked were really good. At least they were better than Prim's, who I now motion to keep quiet with a shake of my head, forbidding her to volunteer for me. I bravely take the stage.

"Wonderful! And now for the Boys!" I fear it will be Gale, and actually fear it will be Peeta.

But it is neither. "Zachary Tyler!" A Merchant boy I do not know. Zachary and I shake hands and are escorted into the Justice Building.

* * *

The first people to visit me are my mother and Prim. Prim is inconsolable, weeping and upset that she was not allowed to volunteer for me. I order Mother to take care of Prim after I am gone.

Gale is next. "Get to a bow. And if they don't have one for you then you make one."

"Don't let my family starve, Gale!" I remind him as he is led away.

I should not be so surprised that Peeta comes to see me, after what happened last night. But he does. I stiffen when he comes in, but he holds his hands up in surrender.

"I come in peace. I only want to apologize. I never should have kissed you without your permission. I still love you, though, and I always will."

Peeta has always been sincere; it is one of the things I admire about him. I nod. "I forgive you." The air has to be cleared now, since I will probably come back dead.

Peeta eyes me warily. "We're still friends, then?"

I give something between an exasperated sigh and a laugh as I place a hand on his shoulder. Feeling generous and merciful, I reach up and press my lips to his in a chaste kiss. It is something he can hold onto.

When I draw away, Peeta looks stunned. "If I kiss you now, would you allow it?"

I smile softly. "I'll allow it."

Peeta pulls me back to him and kisses me soundly in return. I close my eyes and savor it for what it is. After a few moments, I press my hand into his chest and pull out of the kiss. "Goodbye," I whisper.

Peeta has been gone only a few minutes when a red haired man whom I have been anxiously hoping would come now enters my cell.

"I thought you would be on duty," I tell him.

"I was. Stationed in the Justice Building." He takes my hand. "Please win, Katniss."

I nod. "I'll try." I ponder back over all the time we have spent together, as I gaze at this man that I have literally come to love.

Wait... love? I have fallen in love with a Peacekeeper, and I didn't even notice that such a transformation was happening within me! The epiphany makes me bold.

"Darius, if by some miracle I do win... would you still be open to marrying me?"

Darius stares at me in amazement. "Then you are saying Yes? You'll allow it?"

I nod quietly. I accept his proposal. If I become a Victor, I will also become a Peacekeeper's bride. "Yes. I'll allow it. You have my word."

Darius looks elated. He seems poised to grab me and kiss me, good and proper, and I find myself begging him to do so. It is already too late for us, practically.

Or so I think. I believe I hear footsteps approaching. I stare at Darius seriously, with no nonsense. "This is your last chance. Kiss me."

Darius tentatively steps forward, shocked I am the one to ask for a kiss, and unsure whether he should kiss me senseless. I lose patience.

"Kiss me, damnit!" And seizing his lapel, I close the gap between us and slam my lips against his.

As Darius wraps his arms about me and depeens the kiss, the locking of our lips becomes steamy. Our mouths open to each other as one, and I slip my tongue in between the split until it bumps into Darius's tongue and winds about it. My eyes droop shut, and my vocal cords hum as I moan. "Hmmm..."

Darius gropes my ass heavily. When he hikes my leg to his waist, so that my dress rides high up my thigh, I leap into his arms, folding my legs around his torso. Our bodies undulate as they grind into each other.

And as I kiss this man, and as he kisses me back at last, I think dreamily, _'This is what my first kiss should have been like. I never want to kiss anyone else ever again...'_

And I likely never will, as before we can have sex, footsteps come closer. I break the kiss violently and fling myself away from Darius. Seconds later, the door opens. If Darius, a Peacekeeper Private, was caught kissing a poor Seam woman Tribute like me, he could be punished.

Darius's colleagues march him away. I touch my kissed lips in wonder.

I am still in a daze when Haymitch guides me onto the train. I only hope I can return so I can kiss Darius again. So I can marry Darius.


	6. Chapter 6: The Peanut Section

**Chapter 6: The Peanut Section**

 **Peeta's POV**

I wake early on the morning of the first day of the Games coverage, rudely shaken by the banging on my bedroom door from my mother.

"Get up, you lazy boy with your head in the clouds! Watch that girl you are so in love with die!"

Mom has always known I am in love with Katniss Everdeen. And it has repulsed her to no end. No son of hers will ever marry a Seam woman, she has vowed.

But today, I ignore her mockery as I wordlessly get dressed. It has been made very clear that Katniss does not return my feelings of love. I don't know if there is any man who might strike her fancy. Although, I thought I saw something between her and that Peacekeeper, Darius. When I raced into the Hob the day Gale was whipped, it looked like they were about to kiss or something...

The thought makes me shudder, and rises a fire of jealously within me. I don't know what Katniss would see in a Peacekeeper, when she has always seemed like such a rebellious spirit. And she has never seemed open to marriage or children, though in attempting to woo her, I had hoped to change her feelings on raising a family in time, should my wooing have been successful.

But it wasn't. And if it is true that she has been seduced by Darius, then maybe it is better if she does not come back alive. It would be torture to watch her win, only to come back and become romantically involved with, possibly even marry, another man.

My father, mother, brothers and I now arrive in the square before the Justice Building. We have only had to come here in the evenings the past four days or so, while the tributes were in training and conducting their media interviews. Katniss pulled an 11 during her training, outclassing even the Careers, so she has an excellent chance of actually becoming Victor. I don't want her to die, but not if I lose her forever in another way and prove my mother right.

My thoughts are interrupted as I bump into Gale Hawthorne. I used to think that he was the main rival for Katniss's affections, but upon further scrutiny, I have come to believe they were only close friends in the platonic way. And with Darius possibly now in the mix...

"Any word on her?" I ask him.

"A lot of chatter," he reports. "The Capitol is absolutely fascinated by her. They like her chances."

"I'm nervous," I admit to him almost sheepishly.

Gale stares at me with something resembling pity. My face grows hot as I begin to wonder how obvious my feelings for the Seam huntress are. Soon, we are joined by others. Two ginger Peacekeepers saunter up: Purnia and... Darius.

I try to remain neutral and polite as I regard a possible threat to Katniss's affections. "Are you two on patrol?"

"For the crowds," Darius smiles down at me, unaware that I might harbor any jealousy or ill will towards him. "Purnia and I have jurisdiction over this left section." We are on the left side of the square, near the front of the crowd, with an unencumbered view of the Jumbotron screens.

"Well, if you are stationed here anyway, do you want to watch with us?" Gale offers. He seems to be directing the question more to Purnia than to Darius. She looks taken aback, but pleased too.

"All right," she smiles. Darius nods his appreciation to Gale, who only returns it cordially.

As Darius and Purnia turn to face the screens and survey the rest of the district checking in, Gale and I look at each other. Somehow, from the look in his eyes, I can tell there is no love lost between him and Darius. I think about asking him if he knows of something going on between Katniss and Darius. Perhaps he is aware of a relationship and does not approve, out of protectiveness towards his friend. But I can't find it within me to raise the issue, and certainly not with Darius standing right there.

Near us in the crowd, I spy yet another head of red hair. "Hey, Delly!" I wave over.

Right away, I notice that she is not her usual bubbly self as she sidles over. "Hey, Peeta." She has trouble looking directly at me. Well, not that she ever had trouble with that before; it's just that her averted glance has more of a melancholy countenance to it now.

I remember how Delly walked in on Katniss and I kissing the night before the Reaping. Interrupting such a moment, no matter the circumstances surrounding consent, would be awkward for anybody. I feel compelled to apologize to Delly over what she witnessed, but don't know how to broach the subject, or if it would be appropriate to do so. I decide to try and make it up to her another way.

"Gale Hawthorne and Darius and Purnia and I are going to watch the Games together. Would you like to join us?"

Like Purnia, Delly seems surprised by my offer. But also touched. "OK."

The five of us stand together, discussing Katniss's and that Zachary Tyler's chances ourselves, since listening to the talking heads and waiting for 10 AM is too stressful. At one point, Mom approaches me, a look of disapproval on her face.

"Peeta! What are you doing with this riff raff?" We do look a motley crew: two Merchant kids, two Peacekeepers and a Seam miner.

"They're my friends," I say coolly, which is true, even if I am in the process of re-evaluating my relationship with Darius.

Mom surprisingly leaves me alone after that, perhaps wary of the presence of Peacekeepers and comforted that at least Delly is with me. I wonder if she is hoping I will eventually cast Katniss aside and marry someone like Delly instead. In her eyes, the match would be an appropriate one within class lines.

10 A.M. arrives and the screens come on to reveal a dense forest. My heart hammers in my chest with both fear and hope, as I spy Katniss just before the gong goes off.

* * *

"She has done remarkably well," Darius observes to me.

We are two weeks into the 74th Hunger Games, and Katniss is one of only three competitors still alive.

13 tributes died that first day in the Bloodbath. Zachary Tyler and Katniss were amongst the survivors and, despite being from across class lines teamed up. Over the next week, the pair heard a few more cannons: the boy from 3. The boy from 10 with a bad leg. The little girl from 11. Katniss suspected that the Careers were tracking and killing the weaker tributes one by one, before setting their sights on bigger kills. So she and Zachary, now in the Final Eight, circled back to the Cornucopia to spy on the Careers - Marvel, Glimmer, Cato and Clove.

On the night of the tenth day, Clove was killed in her sleep by mutant pink birds with sharp beaks. When her allies found her body with her throat slit the next morning, they suspected foul play and went in search of the perpetrator, little realizing that our tributes were tailing them. When the Careers discovered Thresh, the boy from 11, he killed Glimmer, the girl from 1. Seeing this as mistaken proof that Thresh must have killed Clove, the Career boys tortured Thresh to death as the District 12 tributes watched from the shadows. In revenge, Zachary bravely lobbed a tracker jacker nest in their midst; the insects stung Marvel, the boy from 1, to death while Cato barely escaped with his life. Now in the Final Four, Zachary and Katniss parted ways. On the thirteenth night, Zachary was torn apart by wolf-like mutts.

Which brings us to where we are now: Katniss up against the boy from 2, Cato, and the sneaky girl from 5, whom Katniss has nicknamed Foxface.

Foxface runs and steals, instead of fights. She is redheaded like Darius and Purnia and Delly, so she sticks out in the greenery. If drawn into a fight with Katniss, the Seam huntress would beat her easily to battle for the Crown with Cato.

However, Gale is not putting his hopes too high. Certainly not as high as Darius's or mine.

"Get real! Even if Katniss outlasts Foxface, she will be going up against a Career. In 73 years, only Emmanuelle Southard and Haymitch Abernathy have come back to Twelve alive after barely beating Careers who were comparatively weaker than Cato!"

"Maybe if there was a way to see how Emmanuelle and Haymitch did it, we could find a way to communicate our findings to Katniss," I suggest.

"Doubtful, Peeta. That would mean accessing Games videotapes in Archives that only Capitol officials are allowed to see. Besides, Emmanuelle and Haymitch had outside elements that helped them in their Top Two fights - elements that Katniss does not have available to her. In Emmanuelle's day, the arena walls were actually durable and more unorthodox weapons were to be had. Haymitch had a varied and unique landscape at his disposal. Besides, even if we could send Katniss some advice, the spike in prices have all but plugged up sponsor gifts coming through."

The rest of us stare at Darius in incredulity. "How do you know that?" I gawk.

"Well, I've been reading too, you know," Darius shrugs. "Those books on the Games aren't just for you in school."

Purnia suddenly shushes us. "It's Foxface!"

On screen, Foxface is stealing a knife from Katniss's backpack while the huntress is sound asleep. I want to scream for my love to wake up, but Foxface is still not looking to kill just yet. She turns to run...

... and carelessly steps on a twig. Katniss springs awake and tackles her. The girls fight with nothing left to lose, but Katniss manages to wrest back her knife and stab Foxface. The cannon sounds.

"She's in the Top Two. It's her and Cato," Gale says grimly.

Delly nudges me. "Peeta, I have to go to the restroom. Will you hold my spot?"

Relieving yourself is the only legitimate excuse for leaving during mandatory programming like the Games. And even then, there are Port-a-Pottys lining the square. But they all look occupied as I scan them.

"I'll let you in the bakery and escort you back." I accompany Delly back home and let her use my bathroom. As we traipse down the hall on our way back, she says quietly:

"If Katniss wins, will you marry her?"

Oh, how I would love to, but I feel that is a door no longer open to me. I glance at my feet.

"She doesn't love me back. What you saw... she didn't want me to kiss her. She might even love someone else."

Delly looks surprised, and oddly more relaxed. But still pained by my admission. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

That's when it hits me like a ton of bricks. All the puzzle pieces fall into place. Delly is in love with me. And I broke her heart without meaning to. I guess we have both been rejected in some measure, and this kinship makes me feel pity for her as she turns away.

"Delly."

"What?" She murmurs as she spins back to me. But she can't say anything else before I cup her face in my hands and kiss her on the lips.

Fireworks. A sensation I have only ever felt when I kissed Katniss. Delly leaps into my arms and ravages my mouth in return. Opening my lips to her, we begin to kiss more passionately. Delly is not a bad kisser, quite skilled, actually. And she loves me...

We break apart after a few moments with a new shift in our relationship and a new understanding. "Come on. The others will be wondering where we are."

There is excited chatter and murmur as Delly and I join our friends back in the square. "What's happened?"

"Katniss and Cato are fighting on the Cornucopia!" Purnia reports tightly.

Indeed, Cato has Katniss pinned to the horn, trying to push her back towards dog mutts below. Katniss's bow is off to one side. Hands flailing, Katniss suddenly gets her grip on a stray arrow and pierces Cato through the neck.

"AHHH!" The last Career roars in pain, as Katniss kicks him off of her, off the horn and to the mutts below. It isn't long before the last cannon sounds.

Bedlam in the square. We have our third Victor and first in two dozen years.

"She did it! She did it!" Purnia squeals. And in a fit of euphoria, she kisses Gale's face off.

A tense moment as Gale stares at Purnia, thunderstruck. Then, he grabs her and kisses her back.

Grinning in amusement, I peck Delly's temple. None of us notice Darius's relief.

* * *

 **Katniss's POV**

After my final interview with Caesar Flickerman, I board the train home for District 12. On the ride back, Haymitch reports to me that Thread has bee ousted for undisclosed reasons and Darius and Purnia have been appointed Head Peacekeeper and Vice Peacekeeper, respectively, in his place.

Darius is the first person I encounter when I get off the train. Launching myself into his arms, I let him kiss me passionately and I kiss him back as our shocked District erupts into further cheers. And as Darius and I kiss, as the man who I wish to be my husband strokes and fondles me through my clothes, fireworks whizz and explode in the nighttime sky above us, above District 12, to celebrate my Victory. No doubt Mother is the most shocked of all, as I later present the engagement ring Darius slipped on my finger.

Darius (the Head Peacekeeper) and I (District 12's third Victor) begin preparations for our wedding and Toasting immediately. And we are not alone. I am stunned to learn that Gale, a lowly Seam miner, will marry Vice Peacekeeper Purnia. And I feel tranquility wash over me when I learn that Delly Cartwright and Peeta are to wed. I always suspected that Delly pined after Peeta, just as he once pined for me.

Two months after I return home, Darius and I sign the marriage papers in the Justice Building. Darius moves from the Peacekeeper Barracks to my mansion in Victors' Village, where we hold our Toasting. By the light of the fire, I nearly swoon as Darius kisses me, his bride. I never thought I would wear Mother's wedding dress, and yet here I am, now a wife. By year's end, we have attended Gale and Purnia's wedding, as well as Delly and Peeta's. Ever night, as I kiss my handsome Peacekeeper husband, and he kisses me back, we make passionate love in our marriage bed.

The following January, I embark on my Victory Tour.


	7. Chapter 7: Peacekeeper Arena

**Chapter 7: Peacekeeper Arena**

I fall pregnant with Darius's child not long after our wedding. In February of the following year, I give birth to our daughter.

When the child is weeks old, disaster strikes.

The 75th Hunger Games, or Third Quarter Quell, announced it's special twist: "As a reminder that even the Capitol's enforcers are not immune to its power, the tributes will be Reaped from the leaders of the district's Peacekeeping forces."

Darius, my husband, will be going into the arena. With Purnia, the wife of my good friend. Even worse, I will have to mentor them both.

* * *

The morning of the Reaping, I wake wrapped in my husband's arms, both of us naked after making passionate love the night before. So it is all too easy for me to straddle him and take him in my mouth. My lips spring up his shaft desperately, as I attempt to swallow him whole. Darius jovially wakes to the surprise, curling his fingers into my hair, the digits sinking into my skull, as he writhes against me to completion. I finish him off, and then give him a lingering kiss so he can taste himself on my tongue.

It is our only bit of happiness all day. Sitting on the stage next to Haymitch, with my daughter in my arms, I watch as my husband and Purnia are predictably Reaped.

I do everything I can to save my husband. I mentor him with vigor, go to all the sponsors, try every angle. The Capitol is intrigued that I, a Victor, would marry a Peacekeeper, so Darius's story is intriguing to them.

But it isn't enough. Betrayed to the arena, most of the Peacekeeper leaders refuse to fight at first. The Gamemakers kill most of them off. Purnia and Darius get to the Final Four, but when these remaining tributes also refuse to kill each other at a Feast, bombs are dropped that utterly destroy the arena. The Capitol would rather have no Victor than one who might inspire the districts to rise up. My love is destroyed. I will never see him again.

Gale goes mad with grief at the loss of his wife; he is killed in a mine explosion. Although it is never proven, there is a suspicion that Gale committed suicide, in the form of a last act of rebellion.

The messy end to the Quell actually has the opposite effect on the districts. They all bravely rise up, and the critical difference is that the Peacekeeping forces rise up with them. Nevertheless, the effort takes its toll. Thousands of district citizens are killed, solider and civilian alike. Delly Mellark is among them. She was pregnant at the time too. Peeta is crestfallen.

* * *

Fall turns towards winter. Winter turns to spring. The seasons change like this with a rapid pace for the first several years after Darius is taken from me. The rebellion continues, eventually ending Panem's regime. I live from day to day, taking care of Darius's and my daughter, going hunting in the mornings and delivering what I can. Most of trades go towards helping the war effort. My last stop is always Mellark's Bakery, where I will sometimes spend hours with Peeta, comforting him, until I have to pick up Demelza, my daughter, up from school.

One winter's evening, about five years after the Quell, I stop by the bakery and ask Peeta if he would like to go for a walk. He happily agrees, and we stroll through Town and then the Seam, all decorated for Christmas. We talk and laugh, and I feel how Peeta's eyes are on me. It fills me with satisfaction that I am bringing him happiness after the loss of his wife.

At one point, I feel Peeta's lips brush my cheek. I stop walking and turn to stare at him. Peeta must think I'm displeased, and obviously remembering that encounter from the night before my Reaping, mumbles "Sorry."

"You missed," I blink, amused.

"What?"

"You missed," I repeat, and then I point above my head. "Mistletoe." A sprig is hanging in the doorway of the shop next to us. To show him what I mean, I pull him to me and kiss him full on the mouth.

It is like something has been awakened inside of me. And even though it is scary, even though I am not sure if I love Peeta or have reached the point of being in love with him yet, I feel that I could reach that place in time. I jump back into his arms, and soon we are kissing more furiously, caressing each other and gripping at each other's clothes. I plant open-mouthed kisses along his lips, his face, his jaw. Working my way along his neck, I whisper in his ear:

"I will marry you on one condition: you don't get to tell me what to do."

Peeta draws away, astonished at my impulsive proposal, even though he didn't ask me that himself. Beaming, he kisses me deeply. "Deal. Children?"

I think for a moment, and then smile up at him. "Very possible." And I would do it for him. Have his children. He lost his chance to be a parent when Delly died. Besides, Demelza would like to have a sibling, I know.

Peeta and I kiss passionately once more, before returning to the Bakery to plan our wedding.

* * *

I don Mother's old wedding dress for the second time. I feel fortunate to have both Mother and Prim here to witness me get married once more; Peeta lost his whole family to the Rebellion. His father and both his brothers fought, and his mother was ironically executed on suspicion of spying for the Rebels.

After Toasting the bread, Peeta and I share a tender kiss over the fire, with my daughter present. Then, that night, I let Peeta take me to bed and make love to him, to consummate our marriage.

For the first time in a good long while, I don't feel as lonely.


	8. Chapter 8: It Is You

**Chapter 8: It Is You**

It would have been the year of the 100th Hunger Games. Peeta Mellark and I have been happily married for 20 years. By now, we have two children of our own - a daughter and a son. And Peeta raised Demelza as though she was his. She's a young woman now, with beautiful red hair like her father, and married to a profitable candy Merchant in Town.

I am out in the woods one morning, going on a hunt, when I encounter someone I thought I would never see again. A red-haired, handsome man with his clothes in tatters stumbles into my path.

I clap a hand over my mouth as I stare in stunned amazement. For the man is _Darius_ , my first husband whom I thought I lost years ago.

It doesn't even occur to me that I am now technically married to two men, for more pressing is how Darius seems unable to speak. Motioning in signs, he demonstrates how he was turned into an Avox after being captured from the arena. His tongue has been cut out.

Worse still, he is a shadow of himself, skinny and weak. He has been traveling intermittently on foot throughout Panem since the war ended, working various jobs to raise enough money to get back to Twelve, and to me.

Darius sinks to his knees on the forest floor and I cradle him in my arms, despite the fact that I have another husband waiting for me at home. Darius looks close to death, and seems to be fading away. My eyes fill with tears. "Please don't leave me!" I beg. "I still love you."

But Darius is already gone. Or so I think. It begins to rain.

And then the rain begins to shimmer with magic. As I look on in astonishment, Darius is lifted off the ground and bright yellow light flashes across his face before he is lowered back to Earth. When he turns to face me, all healthy and whole again, he speaks. He can talk again!

"Katniss, it's me."

I am overjoyed. "It _is_ you!"

The forest around us is bursting into full bloom, and as Darius and I embrace and kiss, it does not even occur to me that I am kissing a man who is not Peeta, my current husband. For Darius was once my husband too.

* * *

Peeta is flabbergasted to see Darius alive again. And Darius is just as surprised to learn that I remarried the Baker's son and had two children by him. Since my marriage with Darius was never dissolved and I only moved on due to the presumption of his death, Darius offers to annul our marriage and let me live out the rest of my days with Peeta, the other man I love.

But I can't bring myself to do it. So I decide to let both marriages stand. I enter a polygamous marriage with both Peeta and Darius, sleeping with each of them in turn and doting on our children. Demelza is over the moon to see her father again.

And that is how, I - a Victor - went from once vowing to never take a husband to being married twice over.


End file.
